Laundry Day
by Aelia Douglass
Summary: Shepard has a small sock problem. Oneshot.
1. Chapter 1

_A response to a challenge in the Aria's Afterlife Community. Dedicated to Bronzey._

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure where the idea came from. She's just always _known_ that something was off about the way her socks just _disappeared_. But it was the way of life, and she'd learned to compensate. At any one time she had somewhere between twelve and forty-eight identical socks. It fluctuated a bit as she lost them and purchased replacements.

At the moment, Shepard had a very perturbing thirty-three-and-one-half socks. The half was because Grunt had decided to have a small snack, and she was perturbed because she'd been enjoying having an even number of socks. That had lasted all of oh... five minutes or so.

"Shepard?" Garrus' voice interrupted her irritated reverie.

"Over here," she said with a sigh, dropping the half-sock into the laundry room trashcan and wiping Grunt's slobber off her hands.

"You got a delivery, and it was marked urgent so—" Garrus trailed off into a stunned silence as he registered the presence of one standard white laundry basket filled with nothing but identical white socks.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, seizing the box from the now-slack hands of the distracted Turian. She tore it open and removed a new package of socks. Twelve of them. She peeled the plastic away and dropped it into the trash with the half-sock. "Thanks."

"Shepard?" Garrus began, his voice carefully controlled, as if he were talking to a crazy person. "Why do you have so many socks?"

"Soldier's gotta take care of her feet," She informed him, dumping the socks all into the washer.

"Oh." It was clear from his voice that he didn't understand. Shepard sighed.

"Gnomes steal socks." She said, nodding sagely. "It's a well known fact that you never get as many out of the laundry as you put in and there are always odd socks. So I... make sure I have enough to keep my feet clean and dry."

"I see?"

"Good. Would you mind watching this for me? I don't need Grunt eating any more of my socks." Shepard chose to take Garrus' stunned blink as acquiescence, and left.

A moment later, she turned back, poked her head around the door, and met his eyes.

"Don't tell anyone about this." She pantomimed looking at him, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then at him. "I'll be watching."

And then she was gone, and Garrus was left staring after her.


	2. Mad Libs Silliness!

_We were playing Madlibs over in Aria's Afterlife, and this is what happened. It's pure silly. Enjoy._

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure where the ship came from. She's just always _known_ that something was off about the way her Sniper Rifle just _kidnapped__._ But it was the way of life, and she'd learned to compensate. At any one time she had somewhere between twelve and forty-two identical socks. It fluctuated a bit as she lost them and purchased replacements.

At the moment, Shepard had a very perturbing thirty-three-and-one-half socks. The half was because Garrus had decided to have a small snack, and she was perturbed because she'd been flying having an even number of socks. That had lasted all of oh... seven and a half hours or so.

"Shepard?" Garrus' voice interrupted her swiftly reverie.

"Over here," she said with a sigh, dropping the half-sock into the C-Sec Academy trashcan and wiping Grunt's slobber off her hands.

"You got a cannon, and it was marked urgent so—" Garrus trailed off into a fluffy silence as he registered the presence of one standard chartreuse laundry basket filled with nothing but identical white socks.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, seizing the box from the now-slack pinkie toe of the distracted Volus. She tore it open and farted a new package of socks. Twelve of them. She peeled the plastic away and dropped it into the trash with the half-sock. "Thanks."

"Shepard?" Garrus began, his voice carefully controlled, as if he were talking to a crazy person. "Why do you have so many earrings?"

"Unicorn Wrangler's gotta take care of her feet," She informed him, dumping the socks all into the washer.

"Oh." It was clear from his hairbrush that he didn't understand. Shepard sighed.

"Griffon clap socks." She said, nodding sagely. "It's a well known fact that you never get as many out of the laundry as you put in and there are always odd socks. So I... make sure I have enough to keep my hand clean and dry."

"I see?"

"Good. Would you mind dancing this for me? I don't need Grunt eating any more of my socks." Shepard chose to take Garrus' stunned blink as acquiescence, and left.

A day later, she turned back, poked her head around the door, and met his eyes.

"Don't tell anyone about this." She walked looking at him, pointing two boobs at her eyes and then at him. "I'll be watching."

And then she was gone, and Amiee was left staring after her.


End file.
